


What's Past Is Prologue

by RuntotheForest



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, New Year's Eve, Soppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuntotheForest/pseuds/RuntotheForest
Summary: Alec and Ellie work late on New Year's Eve.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 20
Kudos: 86





	What's Past Is Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the New Year's one-shot I didn't know I needed to write. I dashed this out this afternoon. I am hopeful that the new year will bring us much better things than last year, and that is reflected in my shippy little fic. I hope you enjoy.

The last day of the year, less than an hour to midnight, and Ellie found herself staring at a computer screen while peering over Hardy’s shoulder. She knew they were _this close_ to figuring it out, and going home now would have been unthinkable. Still, it was another holiday at work instead of home, and she felt the pang of maternal guilt. She sighed with culpable resignation.

“D’you have to do that in my ear?” Hardy protested.

“Sorry.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. Just feeling like a shit mum. Again. Another holiday the boys are spending without me.”

He turned in his chair to look at her.

“Do you need to go?”

“You know I can’t.”

Hardy drummed the desk with his fingers.

“You could. I’ll stay.”

“Not leaving you here by yourself.”

“Why not? I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

Ellie cocked her head to the side.

“It’s not fair that you would have to spend New Year’s all alone in CID.”

Hardy took off his glasses and tossed them on his desk.

“What do you think I’d be doing otherwise?”

Ellie snorted with laughter.

“No doubt you’d be out on the town, charming the locals with tales of Scottish days of yore, chatting up the ladies…”

“You’re mocking me.”

“Maybe a little.”

Hardy dragged a hand across his face.

“Seriously Miller, you should go. Be with your boys.”

“I’m staying. By the time I get home, it will be past midnight anyway. Fred’s probably asleep already, and Tom doesn’t care if I’m there or not. My dad likely fell asleep in his chair watching the telly, snoring loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”

“Sounds like bloody Shangri-la. And you were ridiculing me for my lack of festivity.”

She shook her head in mock anguish.

“Aren’t we a pair,” she said dryly. “Guess I’ll just text Tom ‘Happy New Year’ and we can get back to it.”

Hardy searched her face for a moment before grabbing his glasses and turning back to the computer screen. Ellie fished her phone from the pocket of her blazer, typed a quick message to Tom, then reclaimed her position over Hardy’s shoulder. They spent the next few minutes scanning details of a photo, searching for something they might have missed.

“Do you have to do _that_?”

Ellie’s focus disappeared with Hardy’s question.

“What now?”

“You’re, uh, breathing on my neck.”

“Oh, sorry for sustaining my own life. I can’t hold my bloody breath, Hardy.”

His sigh was world-weary.

“I don’t expect you to. It’s just – distracting.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“Distracting _how_ , exactly?” she said, with a slight smile playing at her lips.

Hardy cleared his throat.

“Never mind. Forget it. Can we just – _move on_?”

“Fine. I’ll step away from your neck.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

She took a miniscule step to the side, and they resumed their scrutiny of the onscreen photo. Hardy’s hand occasionally flitted to the screen, pointing out various details as he narrated them excitedly. Ellie found herself focusing on his long, slender fingers, rather than the photo they were analyzing.

“Could you _not_ do that?” 

Hardy’s head twisted around to look at her, his face bewildered.

“What did _I_ do?”

“Your fingers. They’re distracting.”

“You’re mocking me again.”

“No. They actually _are_ distracting.”

“What? Why?”

Ellie fumbled for a reason that didn’t sound inappropriate, but her mind went blank.

“Never mind. Just maybe use a pencil to point at things, okay?”

“Uh, sure. Fine. Okay.”

He picked up a pencil and pointed it at the screen, looking back at her for silent approval, which she gave with a slight nod. After a few minutes, he put the pencil down and leaned back in his chair. He began to finger his tie absently as he voiced his conclusions. Her eyes were on his hands again, and his words seemed to be disappearing without her comprehension.

“Can you please not do that?”

“For God’s sake, what did I do now?”

“You’re playing with your tie.”

“I’m pretty sure I do these things regularly – point at things, fiddle with my tie…”

Ellie inhaled slowly, again trying to come up with a reasonable response. Nope. Still nothing.

“I don’t know why, but it’s just really distracting tonight. Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Maybe. Best sit down, then.” 

He pulled the visitor’s chair around to his side of the desk, and motioned for her to sit. She smiled gratefully and dropped into the chair.

“Back to it, eh?” she said, a tad too cheerfully. 

“Tell me what you think about the photo,” he said, studying her face.

For the next few minutes, she rattled off ideas and theories. His eyes darted back and forth between Ellie and the photo. At one point, she reached up and tucked an unruly curl behind her ear.

“Um, can you not do _that_?” he said, looking away.

“What is it this time?” She looked bemusedly alarmed.

“Your hair. You, uh, tucked it behind your ear. It was distracting.”

“It was falling in my face. I would think that would be _more_ distracting.”

He swallowed hard, frowning in consternation.

“Nope. It’s not.”

A coy smile spread across her lips.

“Hardy, you have something on your face.”

His head snapped toward her.

“What is it?”

She reached over and touched his cheek.

“My fingers.”

She stroked his cheek gently.

“I – _oh_.”

His face softened, but he did not smile.

“Ellie.”

She drew her hand away.

“Did you just use my first name?” she asked, blushing slightly.

“What is happening here?”

“It’s New Year’s, Hardy.”

“Is that all?”

“It must be, mustn’t it?”

He folded his arms and looked away.

“What if -” she said conspiratorially, “what if we kissed at midnight? We’re two consenting adults. And we’re friends, right?”

His eyebrow lifted skeptically.

“Of course we’re friends. But do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? Let’s say this – we do this once, and if we don’t like it, we’ll never say anything else about it. We’re mature adults. It will just be a thing that we tried. Our friendship will still be intact.”

He looked doubtful, but nodded and grunted an affirmation. She smiled brightly, then leaned across him to read the time on his computer.

“Four minutes,” she said, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “Whatever shall we do ‘til then?”

She reached to him and gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. He closed his eyes at her touch, but sat stiffly in his chair. The moment she withdrew her hand, he turned to her and touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips, tracing the side of her face.

The touch of his fingers – _those fingers_ – made her tingle all over. Oh God, maybe this _was_ a bad idea.

“One minute,” she said, trying to sound fully composed and nonchalant, and his hand dropped. His eyes were conflicted – liquid brown pools of reticence mixed with a dash of anxiety, sprinkled with a healthy dose of something hopeful she couldn’t truly identify.

They heard the fireworks begin outside as the computer clock ticked the arrival of midnight.

“Well, Happy New Year, Hardy,” she said, leaning toward him. His eyes widened as her lips neared his, but he was strangely powerless to move, or even, it seemed, to breathe. Their lips met gently at first – a warm, sweet, comforting kiss that seemed to melt them both into each other. Then suddenly their hands were all over each other’s faces, and their lips were pressing together, their mouths opening for each other’s tongues. Eventually their breathing labored to the point that they had to break apart, and when they did, they stared at each other, stunned.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. They simply eyed each other’s flushed faces and swollen lips, and searched each other’s eyes for answers to the unasked question.

“So…” Ellie finally said with a shaky voice, “we’ve done it now. If you want, we never have to speak of it again.”

Hardy nodded dumbly.

“If that’s what you want,” he said hoarsely.

“That’s not what _you_ want?”

“Only if that’s not what _you_ want.”

“Stop talking in circles!” she snapped, and Hardy blinked at her as though in a daze. “I know we’re both tired, and it is a special occasion. It made total sense for us to do that and enjoy it.”

“Are you saying that you enjoyed it?” 

Ellie thought for a moment, trying to decide how truthful she wanted to be.

“I did,” she finally admitted. “It was even better than I had imagined it.”

“Wait, you imagined it?”

Her face reddened.

“Maybe once or twice. But everyone does that.”

“What, fantasizes about kissing their partners?”

“Well, how did you imagine it would be with me?”

“Bloody fantastic.”

“See? You did it too.”

Now it was his turn to redden.

“So, _Alec_ – how did fantasy compare to reality?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t ask me to answer that question. Please.”

“Why not? Was it bad?”

“No, just – please.”

Her face fell. 

“Sorry. Never mind. Like I said – we never have to speak of it again.”

He looked at her earnestly. 

“Ellie.”

“It’s okay, Hardy. Carry on.”

“Ellie. Please. Look at me.”

She did, but his gaze was so intense that she had to look away. He reached up and touched her cheek gently, and she turned her eyes back to his. He took a deep, uncertain breath.

“Honestly, it was everything I ever hoped it would be, and more - because it was _real_ , and not just a fantasy.”

She was incredulous.

“You _hoped_ for it _?_ ”

He nodded.

“I did. But I never dared to think that you hoped for it as well.”

She nodded.

"I did very much hope for it."

He took her hand.

“This changes everything,” he said softly.

“I suppose it does,” she said, equally softly.

“Happy New Year, Ellie,” he said, brushing a soft, tender kiss against her lips.

“It’s looking better all the time,” she said, feeling a spark of joy that she hadn’t felt in years. 

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said reverently, pulling her close and kissing her again.

The next time they broke apart, they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. They gazed at one another with a dawning adoration, their eyes shining with hope and possibility for a beautiful new year to come.

**Author's Note:**

> All the best for humankind in 2021.


End file.
